


Love

by 1cupoftea



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1cupoftea/pseuds/1cupoftea
Summary: Fareeha muses and falls deeper in love.





	

At 9pm on a Thursday, Fareeha takes her last sip of wine just as the moon peaks out from behind the clouds. Somewhere a dog is barking in the distance and leaves are scuttling across the pavement down below. She is glad she is not walking on that pavement and is instead up here with the love of her life, enjoying the view. She gazes at the arrangement of potted plants on the edges of the balcony, now made more visible in the moonlight, and absentmindedly trails a hand up the goosebumps on her arm.  
  


Angela stands and collects the empty plates, the drained wine glasses, and Fareeha follows her in with a peck on the cheek. They wash the dishes side by side in the kitchen in a serenely domestic scene, bathed in the warm light of the room. Fareeha suddenly thinks of children's feet pattering across the floor and it makes her heart do a jump. When the last plate has been stacked the living room is tidied, the light switched off, and they finally make their way to bedroom.  
  


They both know what will follow this: they'll brush their teeth, remove their make-up together, get ready for bed feigning exhaustion and then make love quickly but passionately under the sheets. The intensity is searing - they fuse together so eagerly and easily over and over. Sloppy kisses, grasping hands, the result of unkempt passion; and Fareeha is still seeing stars as she lays there staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, while Angela crawls out of bed. Their clothes have been strewn across the floor, but Fareeha has the decency to at least retrieve her underwear.  
  


She ponders to herself as she allows her breathing to calm. There is a caution in which they skirt around each other on this front. And no matter what it always ends the same way. Fareeha questions what, then, is the purpose of holding back in the first place if they are clearly so taken with each other. Perhaps it is the rush of it all: this relationship, this love, the unfamiliarity that calls for them to take things slow and pull the reigns. Perhaps it is the nervousness at the extent at which they feel for each other, in the hands of such inexperience - like it could all shatter like glass in an instance. Like they are afraid to take things deeper. But ultimately the irresistible pull is too sweet for any real resistance to last. Self-control evaporates like a lemon drop on cherry lips - and perhaps this isn't a bad thing, Fareeha thinks. Maybe falling head first to plunge into the soapy waters of love is the way to fall. To embrace the whole nature of it - both physical and emotional, at whichever speed these progressions happen to occur. Something like this can't be planned, after all. There is no map to guide the way.  
  


She turns over so she is laying on her front and sighs deeply as the sweat on her back cools. The way Angela's breathy moans fan her skin as she pants into her neck loops around her head and doesn't fail to send shivers up her spine. She can't get over the way their bodies move together, the way the heat builds and consumes, unrelenting - it's intoxicating, and continues to be even now.  
  


Angela takes a shower. She insists on stringent maintenance of bodily hygiene and Fareeha assumes her profession has something to do with it. She on the other hand will wait until the sun cracks open the sky in the morning, letting the sweat cool from her body as she watches her love through the open door of the bathroom. Her cheek is pressed up on a pillow with her arms crossed underneath it. Her head is soft and her mind is quiet, yet she feels the intricacies of each nerve and muscle as she lounges. There is something inside of her that she recognises is new and it grows day by day with her time with Angela. The fabric of her being has been re-sewn. There is a lull with a sharpness that she cannot describe. An ignited vigour to life that previously wasn't there - like the whole world has shifted slightly and she is now seeing it through a new lens.  
  


She watches lazily as Angela pats her pale skin dry with a towel, up creamy thighs and her chest to the wisps of straw-coloured hair at the back of her neck. Fareeha's heart drips like a tap in her chest and she can't help the stupid smile that fixes itself on her face. Angela notices her staring and blushes, suddenly shy, but does not close the door as she gets dressed in rosy-coloured pyjamas. She soon joins Fareeha in the rich navy of their bed and they both quickly succumb to sleep in each others arms. Angela smells like strawberries. Everything is warm and comfortable and secure, and Fareeha loves it.  
  


* * *

 

  
During the day, they think about each other a lot.

When Angela's mind wanders while she's tidying patient files her thoughts fall on Fareeha's boyish grin and a tender, warm feeling curls in her chest. She thinks about after work when they will spend the evening together at home with a movie, or cuddling by a good book, or kissing each other senseless on the couch. Fareeha has to remind herself to focus as she makes her rounds, but Angela's brilliant laugh still worms its way into her thoughts. She thinks about all the ticklish spots that will produce this exact sound that always makes her stomach plummet. It's the sort of giddiness that should be reserved for teenagers.  
  


For now, she understands that this seems a doggish thing - there is no real structure at all. There is no real order or thorough process of consideration that has gone into this, especially the decision to move in together after a few short weeks. They are being somewhat reckless. But love can be unexpected, and love should be spontaneous. Fareeha reminds herself of this and it makes her feel like a hopeless romantic. Their relationship is at the budding stage despite their years of friendship; its petals are yet to grow, its roots are yet to develop, but Fareeha is content at where they're headed. She sees a future with them. Everything about Angela intrigues Fareeha, and everything about Fareeha fascinates Angela.

  
The dog is taken out in turns. They settle on a good alternating system tailored around their work schedules, and more often than not like to go together to the nearby park to watch him sprawl himself in the grass as they nibble at ice-cream cones. He is sweet little thing, adopted admittedly on a whim when Angela all but begged to take him home with them one night - and who could have resisted her cooing voice and pleading eyes as her hands played absently with the lapels of Fareeha's suit, who wasn't as convinced in the beginning. But they brought him home and it wasn't long before she fell in love too. He is playful but mild-mannered and utterly adorable, so it is hard not to, and his stark white coat and lolling tongue don't help matters. Angela says she spoils him too much but Fareeha begs to differ and coos sweet nothings to his tummy while holding him like a baby until the doctor rolls her eyes with a growing smile. They lather him in affection all the same and watch with a sense of parental pride as he explores his new surroundings and learns how this strange new world works. She loves him. And she absolutely adores Angela.

  
There is so much love she feels her heart might burst.

  
On the weekends, Fareeha likes to take Angela out on dates: they drink coffee by the river, slow-dance under a star-mottled sky and eat at lavish restaurants by candle-light. It's all very romantic, very traditional. Lena jokes that they are already like an old married couple, and Fareeha reddens at the mention of marriage and tells the younger woman to stuff it. Angela lavishes Fareeha when her timetable grants her unexpected free time: she surprises her with a fresh bundle of lilies or her favourite take-out. She cuddles her whenever the chance is given and Fareeha adores the small signs of affection she gives here and there and is more than happy to return them.  
  


* * *

  
It's a somewhat slow afternoon when she arrives home. It is the last day of the working week and her mother would be coming over tomorrow. Her uniform is crisp and tidy and she's feeling especially invigorated today despite the friction that will likely come with Ana's visit. She yearns to scoop Angela in her arms and pepper her with kisses and forget about the stresses of the day. Their puppy greets her but she barely acknowledges this as she loosens her tie and places the keys in their place by the door. There is light music coming from the stereo and she moves with slow, deliberate steps to their bedroom to make her presence known. She leans against the doorframe and watches as Angela snaps a fresh white sheet over their ready-made bed, humming to herself. It is a change from the deep navy from last night and brings a new brightness to the room - best described as simple and neat, but nonetheless cosy, and Fareeha admires Angela's elegant form in this brisk new light. The doctor is already smirking when she turns around - a black pencil skirt and white button-up blouse, must have just arrived from work - and the next day they don't explain to a puzzled Ana how on earth almost half of the shirt buttons have mysteriously gone missing. She is helping fold the laundry, and her daughter's reddening face says all she needs to know.  
  


Her mother can be irritatingly sharp. Fareeha is still scowling when they are sitting around the kitchen table, long after every article of clothing has been folded and returned to its' rightful place. She watches the way Ana sips her tea in a failed attempt to hide her smirk. Her visits are increasing as she is eager to meet the woman who has occupied so much of her daughter's time, that she cannot even call her poor, aging mother at least once a week to check up on her. Fareeha rolls her eyes and says she is exaggerating. Ana remarks how she has never been this serious about anyone before and Fareeha fidgets awkwardly with the table mat. She almost chokes on her own tea when her mother makes an offhand comment about grandchildren and Angela can't help but laugh, perhaps out of nervousness, ears tinged pink.  
  


The Amari's bicker constantly to Angela's dismay, who has always wanted the warmth that comes with family, but Fareeha assures her that this is all good-natured and a natural part of family life. They've always had a strong and loving relationship - but the common stubbornness they share often results in heated disagreements. To Fareeha's delight, Ana adores Angela. They spend ample time together and Angela feels something patch up inside of her, the swell of joy at a mother figure re-introduced into her life after many long, empty years. She never knew how much she had secretly yearned for this. Fareeha notes at the glow she always has after another one of her mother's winding conversations, to which Fareeha had always taken for granted. They are now having dinner, and Ana is offering anecdote after anecdote which leaves Angela laughing into her hand in an attempt to stifle her giggles. Fareeha can't help the chuckles that escape her despite hearing her mother's stories many times before - Angela's laugh is contagious.  
  


When Ana leaves Angela is in an especially good mood and they curl up together in bed, sharing soft kisses and hugs and she lets Fareeha nip down the smooth column of her throat to her collarbone. She inhales her fruity scent as she spreads kisses across her shoulders, and it spurs a memory. Sometimes they like to bathe together as the sky turns marmalade, lazy afternoons spent in the sweet embrace of milky lavender suds, wrinkled and soft afterwards in white fluffy bathrobes. She leans her head in the crook of Angela's neck and closes her eyes with a sigh, reminding herself to stock up on bath salts so that tomorrow they can spend the evening leisurely in the bathtub. She hears Angela shift to switch off the table light and press a whisper of 'I love you' to her hair, and she returns it with a tired smile.

 

This is how the days go. And Fareeha is content.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never played the game so sorry if they are out-of-character at times? But I adore pharmercy so I couldn't help but write this.  
> Anyway please feel free to leave constructive comments :)


End file.
